


We Should Be Out There

by escapesnail



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: (sorta) - Freeform, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, First Time, Gwen is a dom and nobody is shocked, Lesbian Sex, Light Dom/sub, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Takes place at the dance in 1x05, Vaginal Fingering, canon stops after the first paragraph or so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:42:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapesnail/pseuds/escapesnail
Summary: Ratched and Briggs fuck in the nurse's washroom after their emotional moment at the dance. What happens after? I dunno, this is a one shot! Diverges from canon to give them a little bit of a different first time.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 22
Kudos: 242





	We Should Be Out There

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! First publishable fic in awhile, and I wrote it in one sitting and currently have work in about five hours. Here's to hyperfixation? Anyway, I hope you all enjoy, I am open to feedback or other suggestions for fic in the future! You can find me on Tumblr @escapesnail. And, as ever, I do not own the characters or the concept for Ratched.

Mildred Ratched watches from the corner of her eye as Gwendolyn sidles up to her and gently brushes her gloved hand against Mildred’s own. She was stunning in the jewel blue dress, but Mildred couldn’t quite find the words to express the thought; she was even hesitant to look at the other woman square on for fear of suspicion from the other partygoers.

“Look at us just standing here,” Ms. Briggs says, an agitated edge to her voice. Mildred turns to meet her eyes, her heartbeat perceptibly quickening with the increased contact. “We should be out there on the floor.” Ratched looked away while she pondered her response. It would be freeing, she thought, to hold and be held by a woman, Gwendolyn, so publicly.

“Yes,” she replies a moment later in what she hoped was an optimistic tone. “Maybe someday.” Mildred looks back at the other woman to find her face grave, her brow furrowed.

 _Still stunning._ Thought Ratched, trying to suppress a blush but smiling gently. She saw Gwendolyn run her eyes down her form as she once again turned away, pretending to survey the party. Heat courses through her chest, even as Ms. Briggs moved her hands back to her handbag and away from Mildred’s gloved fingers.

Gwendolyn removes her hand from Mildred’s side, intent on not pushing the other woman’s boundaries… again. She tried to allow Ms. Ratched’s optimism to cheer her slightly, without much success. It wasn’t fair, the way heterosexual couples could love and be intimate freely, while Gwendolyn and her people had to hide underground just to find women like themselves. It made her seethe from the inside out, made her regret the years of her life, of Mildred’s life too, that had been wasted running from authenticity in the name of personal safety and social convention. It wasn’t fair, and Gwendolyn found it difficult to continue standing simply next to Mildred amongst swaths of happy, free couples pressed together and swaying to the music.

“I’m going to the washroom,” says Gwendolyn, and she walks off before Mildred could react.

Ratched watches her companion cross the room and disappear around the corner. She wondered if she had said something wrong, or if it was the general tension of the situation that caused the reaction. Rarely did Mildred Ratched find herself slow to react, however in this instance, it took several moments for her to decide to follow Ms. Briggs and leave her plan for the event behind. She desperately wants to know how to comfort Gwendolyn, even feeling slight regret for her reaction at the women’s bar the other evening as she picked up her pace in the hall and practically barges into the nurse’s washroom to make up for the lost time. Mildred stops in her tracks as Gwendolyn’s misty eyes, a beautiful blue that practically matched the color of her gown, met hers. Ms. Briggs was washing her hands, her white party gloves gently laid by the side of the sink. Mildred opens her mouth to say something while Gwendolyn dries her hands, but no words come.

“Why have you joined me here?” Gwendolyn asks, trying not to sound as harsh as she feels inside.

“I…” Ratched trails off again, taking a few more steps forward. Gwendolyn almost steels herself, preparing for another rejection. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” The attempt felt feeble, but Gwendolyn knew Mildred always tries her best in these situations.

“I’m rather not, but I appreciate the consideration nonetheless Mildred.” She fails to keep her voice as steady as she would have liked, and she saw Mildred’s face soften. “Fuck.” Gwendolyn whispers, biting back tears.

“Oh Gwendolyn, what? Please talk to me I’m so sorry,” Ratched approaches her, nearly touching her but just stopping.

“God, you have nothing to be sorry for, I’m sorry, this is silly,” Gwendolyn turns away and puts her hand on her forehead, taking shaky breaths.

“It is not silly,” Mildred insists, walking around to face Gwendolyn, insistence in her voice. “We should be out there, dancing with all the other couples, and I’ve been so awful about us when I really do have…” Mildred’s gloved hand moves up to touch Gwendolyn’s face. “Have feelings, for you.” Gwendolyn’s breath hitches, and she mirrors Ratched’s gesture, slipping her bare fingers into the bottom of the other woman’s glove to touch her skin.

Mildred’s head swims with decisions, wondering how much further she should take this, whether Edmund had turned volatile back at the party, or if she was ready for Gwendolyn in this way. She wants it, _oh_ how she wanted it, but she didn’t trust herself not to destroy a woman who uprooted her sense of self in the best way possible. Gwendolyn Briggs would not be a casualty of her plans, she decides with finality. She comes back to the moment after what seemed like an eternity, focusing on the contact of Gwendolyn’s fingers against her skin. The other woman's cologne smells lavishly androgynous, which only heightens Mildred’s desire and further clouds her thoughts.

“Mildred?” Briggs asks as Mildred took her hand from the other woman’s cheek and removed her gloves. Mildred notices Gwendolyn’s arm paused as if she were reaching for her waist, and after placing the gloves onto the counter, Mildred guides Gwendolyn’s hand to rest at her side. The other woman’s eyes widen, clearly shocked by the gesture. Slowly… very slowly, Mildred leans into Gwendolyn, tilting her chin up to meet her lips. Gwendolyn watches, her expression almost stuttering, and she pauses only a moment before gently closing the gap between them.

Gwendolyn is in disbelief. Mildred Ratched, the woman who had taken root in her like a thorny tree, kissing her in the washroom of an asylum. With proper caution, Gwendolyn uses her hold on the other woman’s waist to pull her closer, pressing their bodies together. Mildred’s hands are at Gwendolyn’s jaw, cupping her face with tenderness, and Gwendolyn thought she might melt. The other woman smells sweet but sharp, like warm perfume and hairspray, and she tastes of tea and champagne. Gwendolyn can’t stop herself from humming into Mildred’s mouth as they kiss again and again, and once more before Gwendolyn moves to cup Mildred’s face and pull away. Mildred exhales softly and takes a moment before opening her eyes to meet Gwendolyn’s.

“Gwen,” she whispers. Gwendolyn’s heart pounds in her ears, and tucking strands of the other woman’s hair back into its style is all she can do to distract herself from the borderline erotic sight of her red lipstick smudged with Mildred’s own across the woman’s cheek. “Gwendolyn, I…”

“What is it Mildred? Anything you want.” Gwendolyn’s chest heaves and she smiles, allowing her eyes to flit over Mildred’s perfectly freckled neck and chest.

“Touch me,” Mildred says, almost to her own surprise. Kissing Gwendolyn was soft and unimaginably _right_ , and Ratched wanted more. She felt like she could almost taste the cologne. Sensing the other woman’s hesitation, she runs her thumb over her lips and kisses the corner of her mouth. “It’s okay, I want this.” Now properly assured, Gwendolyn leans into Mildred’s neck and takes the lead, leaving lipstick marks where she both gently and firmly kisses the soft skin. Mildred’s hand moves to cup the nape of Gwen’s neck, fingers in her hair. She presses into the contact and bites down on her lip to keep from moaning.

“I wanted you to take me on the table in that restaurant,” Mildred confesses breathily, mouth open as Gwendolyn nips at her ear. A low sound came from the other woman’s throat, vibrating onto the thin skin of Mildred’s neck. “I think about you when I fuck other people, and--god, you feel so good.” Mildred thought about the last time she had allowed that revolting hitman to touch her, how the act of self sabotage was continually invaded by thoughts of Gwen instead, soft and gentle but firm; respectful. This was better than those fantasies, more sensual than any man. This was right.

As Gwendolyn peppers Ratched’s neck and chest with open-mouthed kisses, her core grows warmer and warmer at the other woman’s highly effective orating. The expressions of erotic desire were not lost on her, and she moves her hand to cup one of Mildred’s breasts.

“Is this okay?” She asks as she resumes kissing Mildred’s mouth, deeper than before.

“Yes,” Mildred moans between kisses. “I’m not fragile, I won’t break.” She pauses, flicking her tongue over Gwen’s lips invitingly before another enveloping kiss. It’s Gwendolyn’s turn to moan, and she increases the pressure on the other woman’s chest, beginning to rub her thumb over the fabric.

“Gwen,” sighs Mildred, her head leaning back as Gwendolyn guides her backside to rest against the sink. Her head clouded with lust and her tongue tasting like Mildred Ratched, Gwendolyn pauses to check in with reality.

“What if someone walks in?” They are in a very public nurse’s area, despite the roaring party a few rooms over.

“I don’t fucking care,” Mildred reaches to kiss Gwendolyn again, luring her mouth open. Whether it was the profanity or the insistence in the other woman’s voice, Gwendolyn discards her self-control and hikes Mildred’s skirt up to her hips. Mildred gasps and Gwendolyn notices her lean harder against the sink. Supporting her a little bit more with an arm around her waist, Gwen trails her touch from Mildred’s perfect chest down the bodice of her aquamarine dress, and makes sure to lock eyes with her as she runs her fingers along the waistband of her undergarments. Mildred’s stare is wide, and Gwendolyn wants so much to devour her like a starving animal. She may have to settle for her hands, but her core still tightens at the thought.

“ _Gwen_ ,” says Mildred again, one hand on her cheek and the other firmly gripping the counter. It was all she could do not to buck her hips for contact, and she wants to avoid seeming quite that desperate. For now.

“Yes Dear?” Gwendolyn asks faux-innocently; all the while her hand coaxes Mildred over the barrier of her silk underwear.

“ _Don’t_ tease me.” Gwendolyn laughs softly while moving once more to playfully kiss Mildred on the lips. The aforementioned desperation simply grows, and Mildred’s free hand digs into the exposed skin on Gwendolyn’s back.

_Beautiful._ Mildred thinks as their kiss breaks and their eyes meet. _She is absolutely beautiful._

Her train of thought is cut short as she screws her eyes shut and lets her mouth fall open when Gwen pushes her undergarment down past her thighs. The cool air of the washroom rushes over her while anticipation builds in her chest.

“Tell me how much you want this,” Gwendolyn prods, trailing two fingers teasingly down Mildred’s opening.

“More than anything Gwendolyn, I need you,” her tone is urgent, encouraging, but apparently not what the other woman was looking for. Gwendolyn removes her hand and grasps Mildred’s jaw with firm gentleness. Mildred’s stomach flips with excitement, wishing the other woman to push her further.

“I want to hear you say it,” she insists, her expression heavy with lust and restraint. Mildred’s breath quickens and she fixes her gaze onto the other woman.

“ _Please,_ ” Mildred Ratched begs. “Please Gwen, _fuck me_.” That’s enough for Gwendolyn, and she impulsively presses two fingers down onto Mildred’s tongue. A quick study, Mildred takes the digits into her mouth and moves her tongue around them. Gwen closes her eyes at the sensation and removes her hand from the other woman’s face, bringing it back down to her wet core. She begins slowly, enjoying Mildred’s expression when she runs her fingers down her length.

“God, Mildred, do you feel how wet you are?” Gwendolyn whispers into Mildred’s ear. Mildred can only moan softly in reply, and Gwen grins. Her fingertips circle the woman’s swollen clit, slowly at first and then faster, Mildred’s breaths and small noises quickening with the increased pace. This moment, watching a woman coming undone from the touch of her hand, is what Gwendolyn unashamedly gets off to, as it were. Mildred’s face is pure sensuality, the slight and pleasant shock of newness written in her expression. Keeping her thumb moving on that small but oh-so-sensitive spot, Gwendolyn slowly inserts two of her fingers into the other woman’s cunt, hot and wet with her arousal. As Mildred moans deeply, she leans down to bite Gwen’s shoulder to muffle the sound.

“Good girl, _nnhg_ ,” Gwendolyn says, holding back her own voice.

The praise causes Mildred to clench around Gwen’s fingers, and she’s reaching a point where she can no longer control her hips pushing into the contact, grinding on the other woman. Pressure and heat continue to build and pool in her core, pushing Mildred closer to the edge with every stroke.

“Do you like that, hm? You like being praised while I fuck you?” Gwendolyn’s teasing becomes slightly more cruel, only fueling Mildred’s desire.   
  
“Yes, more, Gwen, please,” she pleads. Gwendolyn laughs and quickens her pace, curving her fingers right to the perfect spot inside Mildred. She doesn’t know what she says, but she knows she continues to beg and bites down loud noises with whimpers, silenced further by Gwen using her free hand to hold her in a kiss. _Devoured_ is the only word that comes to mind as the other woman’s fingers push inside Mildred’s cunt, her tongue fucking her mouth. Mildred had never felt herself coming undone like this, and Gwendolyn could tell she was close.

“Come for me Darling,” Gwen says, looking Mildred square on. If she hadn’t already been on the precipice, the intimacy in the other woman’s expression itself would have sent her over the edge.

Gwendolyn watches as Mildred Ratched’s orgasm rips through her body, clenching around her fingers and crying out louder than she probably should have before Gwen kisses her again to muffle the sound. She looks like an ancient goddess from a painting, and Gwendolyn had never felt quite this way about anybody before, she thought. Gently, carefully, Gwendolyn holds Mildred as she comes down, slowing her fingers before removing them completely. Mildred’s eyes search her own, chest still heaving, and she reaches down for Gwen’s wrist. She can only watch in astonishment as Mildred puts the digits into her mouth, sucking her own wetness from Gwendolyn’s fingers. It was probably--no it was definitely--the most erotic thing Gwendolyn had ever experienced. Mildred smiles knowingly as Gwen’s hand moves back to cup her cheek.

“You are the most stunning, beautiful woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of fucking in a bathroom.” Gwen says, her mouth twisting into a grin. Mildred laughs sharply and suddenly, clapping her hand over her own mouth.

“Gwendolyn Briggs, you are positively obscene,” as Mildred expresses the sentiment, the moment softens, and the two once again kiss. After a moment, Gwen parts their lips to look at Mildred.

“What the fuck are we going to do now?”


End file.
